


The Waterbed

by Sophie_Last



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dreams, M/M, Psycological PWP, Sherlock is a rascal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 01:12:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophie_Last/pseuds/Sophie_Last
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Told in Johns pov. John starts having dreams about Sherlock</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Waterbed

**Author's Note:**

> It might not be accurate in the floor plan, but i didnt have internet when i wrote this so please just go with it~

The case had three facts to it. One, there was a dead man, two there was no obvious cause of death, and three Sherlock had it all figured out already. That isn’t the important part though. About a week before we got the case Sherlock broke my bed. Don’t ask me why, I have no idea. I just walked into the flat one day and there it was, in the middle of the living room sawed right in half. Springs and stuffing was spread around it like it was a person laying on the floor with its intestines falling out. Sherlock gave no further explanation than it was for an experiment. I still haven’t found a new one by the time we got the case and had been sleeping on the couch. I had gotten progressively grouchier to the point of Anderson willingly stepping out of the room when we came. That was about the only good thing in this whole situation. My back hurt, I was snapping at everyone, my neck was constantly cramped and I only got about two hours of restless sleep every night from hearing the constant flow of traffic.  
“We should look for a bed tonight.” Sherlock said as he lifted up the crime scene tape and let me pass through.  
“Stop for a moment.” I stopped and Sherlock fixed the collar of my shirt. His fingers brushed my neck and a shiver went down my spine.  
“It was bothering me.” He continued walking. It was only quarter past five so most of the businesses would be open yet. We went to the nearest furniture store and tried to find a bed. Sherlock and I wandered around the store for a little bit. He discussed the benefits of some of the beds, but mainly just stayed quiet.  
“Do you need any help deciding?” the attendant came over and started showing us the different styles of beds. Every once in a while I would feel Sherlock’s eyes on me, but when I would turn to look at him, he would be looking at something else, or even once, chatting with a random woman. Two hours later and only ten styles down I decided to give up.  
“I may as well just sleep on the couch forever. This is so dull, I’m surprised you haven’t just left already Sherlock.” I was amazed by how quiet the detective had been so far. It was almost like he wasn’t there. I sighed and started toward the exit when something caught my eye. It was a waterbed. I had always wanted one of them, but thought they were frivolous. I walked over to it and looked it over. It was simple, almost militarily simple. The plastic bed was held in place by wood sides and had a simple wood headboard attached. I looked at the price tag and nearly died.  
“Nope, time to go!” I swiftly left the store and headed back to 221B Baker Street with Sherlock.   
~  
I awoke to the sound of Sherlock in the kitchen making tea. I had just fallen back asleep fifteen minutes ago, and the bags under my eyes were getting progressively larger. I rubbed the sleep off my face and sat up. Sherlock brought me a cup of tea and a plate of toast.  
“Thanks.” I mumble as I take the plate and tea.  
“I didn’t think it would be this bad when I cut your bed.” Sherlock said as he sat down in his chair. He flipped open my laptop and sipped his tea.  
“What, that I would be crabby as all hell and have so many aches I would prefer to be back in the war?” he looked at me skeptically as he hacked into my computer. I turned on the telly glumly and watched the crap that was on.  
“I was merely curious about something.” Sherlock said quietly.  
“About what? What could you possibly be curious about that would lead you to cut up my bed? I want to know Sherlock!”  
“You do know. If you would actually see instead of just look you would figure it out.” Sherlock said this like I was a five year old child in kindergarten learning how to tie my shoes for the first time.  
“I’m getting so sick of your smart ass remarks! Just give me a straight answer, why did you do it?!” I stood up in my anger and ripped my laptop away from him.  
“That was so unnecessary!” Sherlock pouted.  
“Use your own laptop!” I practically screamed at him and marched to my room. I was fuming about the bed and still couldn’t figure out why Sherlock cut it up. I paced my room racking my brain for any clue I could think of. I decided to come up with a list of things that could explain it.  
1) TO SEE HOW LONG MY SANITY WOULD LAST  
I didn’t think he was that cruel, but I never knew with him, he was after all, a sociopath.  
2) COUNT THE NUMBER OF BED BUGS  
But that is just silly, you don’t need to cut a bed for that.  
3) MAKE ME SO UNCOMFORTABLE I WOULD LEAVE  
This didn’t make any sense to me either, as we were doing fine before he sawed up my bed and he considered me a friend, his only friend.  
I crumpled up the piece of paper I wrote the list on and threw it in the trash bin with an angry sigh. I was too tired to think and couldn’t figure it out, but I had cooled down since this morning’s incident, so I went back downstairs. The telly was still on and Sherlock was watching it.   
“That’s a lie. She is obviously lying John. There is no way she slept with him!” he shouted at the TV as I entered the room. He must have forgotten I left and was talking to himself like usual. I was already falling asleep again and fell down on the couch just as my eyes fluttered shut. A few moments later I felt Sherlock put the blanket over me and smooth it over my shoulders gently.  
I was having my usual dreams of the war when a light appeared in the distance. It shone beyond the desert, but was getting closer with each second. It was a soft glow with comforting rays reaching out to my face. It soothed me and soon the desert landscape disappeared. The light faded and the scenery changed to the flat. I was in the living room, waiting for Sherlock. When he entered the room his face lit up.  
“John, I missed you so much.” He whispered as he came to hug me. My dream self embraced him back, reveling in the warmth his chest gave off. My dream self looked up into Sherlock’s eyes as his face came nearer and nearer to mine. I was gripping the back of his shirt as he laid his lips on mine softly. It was just a brush, barely a touch, but it still set my blood boiling. He kissed the tip of my nose and then my eye lids.  
“What are you doing Sherlock?” I choked out breathily. He pushed me back onto the couch and loomed over me. He started touching my face, neck and then chest.  
“Sherlock…” It felt so good. He pushed my shirt up so he could get his hands underneath and travel along my bare skin. I moaned at his soft touch. His fingers trailed along the curves and planes of my stomach. He leaned down again and lightly pressed a kiss to my lips, shoving my shirt up the rest of the way and breaking the kiss to toss it over my head. I was hurting so badly for his touch. I craved it like it was air.  
“Sherlock, please!” He stopped what he was doing and smiled rakishly at me. His hands went down to my pants and undid the button. He slowly slid the zipper down one agonizing tooth at a time. My breathing increased and my pulse was going crazy. I started to wiggle out of my pants to help him and was left in just my underwear. My cock was pressing up against the cotton just waiting for its release. I closed my eyes as he slid a finger underneath the elastic band to pull the underwear down.  
“Watch me.” He ordered. I opened my eyes and locked them with his. He slowly pulled the underwear to my knees, releasing my cock from its cotton prison into the heated air and-  
“John, wake up! We have a case.” I almost punched Sherlock in the face.  
“I FINALLY FALL ASLEEP AND YOU WAKE ME UP?! I DON’T CARE IF THE QUEEN OF ENGLAND HAS GONE MISSING I WAS SLEEPING!”   
“Well, she hasn’t, but you were asleep for ten hours. I think that was sufficient enough.” He put his scarf on and waited for me to get up.  
“Ten hours?” He nodded and I looked at the clock to make sure.  
“At least let me pee.” I said as I made my way to the bathroom. Once I locked the door I had to face my number one problem. I had a boner. And I got it from dreaming of my flat mate.  
“What’s wrong with me?” I whispered under my breath.  
“I’m leaving in five minutes with or without you.” Sherlock shouted through the door.  
~  
“I honestly don’t know how Lestrade can miss this stuff. This last case was so obvious I think even you could have figured it out on your own.” Sherlock rambled on in the taxi as we made our way back to the flat. We were sitting close together, but I was up against the window. Sherlock insisted on sitting in the middle for some reason. He was swinging his hands around as he talked and more than once brushed up against my shoulder or my hand. I would have been perfectly fine, I think, if he had not put his hand down right next to my thigh. It was basically on top of it. There was maybe a half a centimeter between his pinkie finger and it. I could feel the heat radiate off his hand and couldn’t help but to think of my dream earlier that day. I felt a blush start to creep up my cheeks and turned to look out the window.  
“What do you think John? John?” I turned back towards Sherlock and he repeated the question.  
“That woman had small marks on the back of her…” I nodded politely when he talked, but I couldn’t really hear him over the roar of his perfect lips. My mouth seemed to go dry and I tried, unsuccessfully, to moisten my lips. I shook my head a bit to try to clear my thoughts, what was I thinking? I can’t let that dream get to me. Sherlock was my flat mate, nothing else.  
“So you don’t agree with me?”  
“Huh, what? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.”  
“Apparently not, I just repeated myself five times in a row and you just sat there nodding your head.” He snickered as I turned red. Surely he must have noticed me staring then. We reached the flat and I was still blushing. I started to go up to my room when I remembered and backtracked to the living room. There was a note left on the couch. ‘I washed your blankets for you, but just this once, I’m not your housekeeper. Mrs. Hudson’ I smiled as I crumpled up the note. I settled in for the night on the couch and tried to fall asleep right away. My back wasn’t hurting as bad anymore and my neck wasn’t cramping either. I snuggled into the freshly washed blanket as a cool draft went through the room.  
~  
Another week passed and I continued to dream about Sherlock. I woke up every morning with a boner and Sherlock would be either in the living room right next to me or in the kitchen doing an experiment (once I woke up to the smell of cooked thumbs in the microwave). The chances of him not knowing were slimming with every night. Today though he had just come out of the bathroom, with only a towel slung around his waist. His hair and chest were still damp from his shower and he sat down in his chair. The towel was slung so low I could see his hip bones and a hint of something else.  
I tried to pretend I was still asleep and looked at him through my lashes. He just sat there, doing nothing but thinking. He shifted slightly and the towel fell farther down his body, leaving even more skin exposed. His nipples started to harden from the cool draft that was going through the room. My pulse jumped and my breathing got ragged. What was I doing?! I turned over and shut my eyes tightly, trying to forget what I just did. I thought I heard Sherlock chuckle quietly and move to his room.  
~  
“Sherlock, I can’t take it much longer, please!” my dream self pleaded with Sherlock as he slowly touched my cock. I whimpered as he started to pick up the pace. His fingers curled around my shaft and pumped from the base to the tip faster with each stroke. He leaned down slowly, still pumping with his hand and flicked the top with his tongue. I moaned loudly and he kept flicking his tongue across the top of my cock. He started to swirl it around the head and soon was sucking lightly in between flicks and swirls. I grabbed his dark curls as he went farther and farther down, getting closer and closer to my base.  
“Sher- oh god Sherlock!” I caught my breath as he started to deep throat my cock, taking in everything he possibly could. My moans got louder and louder until soon I felt like I was going to-  
CRASH! “That was unexpected!” Sherlock leaned over a pot whose lid now resided on the sealing, glued there with a sticky red substance.  
“You’re up. Could you-“  
“No, clean it yourself, you made the mess.” I said as I shuffled to the bathroom. My cock ached from my dreams and I had to take a very cold shower to relieve it.  
“I’m leaving for work. That mess better be cleaned up by the time I get home.” I said to Sherlock. As I was walking out I felt him staring at me, but when I turned around, he was looking up at the ceiling. I shook it off and left.  
~  
I just got done with my last patient when Sarah came up and started talking to me. We discussed a new virus that was going around and had small talk in general. Soon she started to dart her eyes around and wouldn’t look me in the face. She cleared her throat and spoke.  
“So, have you guys… well. Are you two… I mean, what’s going on with…” she flustered over her sentence leaving me confused.  
“Sarah, just say it, what is it you want to ask? I’m sure it couldn’t be too offensive.” I tried to reassure her with a smile.  
“Well, I guess what I am trying to say is, have you and Sherlock… are you two… dating?” we both turned beat red.  
“I, uh, no, we are not. We’re not a ,khhm, couple.” I stumbled over my words in shock.  
“The only reason why I asked is because I saw you sleeping…” my face paled.  
“Do I talk in my sleep Sarah?” she nodded.  
“Not a lot, just a little, but what you were saying was… er…”  
“Oh god…” If I talk in my sleep, and I sleep in the living room, and I am dreaming about Sherlock, and he is in the Kitchen, then he can hear me. What if I’m… Oh, GOD PLEASE NO!  
“Um, thanks for telling me Sarah. “ She nodded and walked off awkwardly. I tried to keep it off my mind but the entire ride home all I could think of is what I must have been saying.  
~  
“You’re home. I cleaned up the kitchen.” I looked into the kitchen and he had definitely cleaned it. There was nothing out of order. Everything was put away and you could actually see the counter and table. I stood with my mouth open and just stared. Sherlock walked over to me and pushed up my jaw softly. He lingered slightly, almost turning it into a caress.  
“Looks nice, doesn’t it?” he said as he casually leaned up against the wall.  
“Is this a dream? Or are you actually capable of cleaning?”  
“Nope, it’s real. Of course I am capable of cleaning. In fact, I found a few things I thought we had lost.” He wandered around the kitchen with his arms outstretched and his chest pushed out. The buttons on his shirt were stretched out so I could see the faintest color of skin underneath. His shirt was pulled out slightly from his pants and I couldn’t help but stare at the thin line of hip I saw. He came back around with a broad smile on his face.  
“Now don’t think I’m going to do this all the time.” I noticed his top button was undone and his clavicle was peeking out.  
“Because that would be ridiculous expectations. Besides, I think Mrs. Hudson would take offense.” He went to the living room to grab one of our laptops and I stood there gawking at his ass as he bent down. The pants that he was wearing hugged him in all the right places. They seemed to lift up his ass and make his legs longer all at the same time. There was a knock at the door and Mrs. Hudson walked in.  
“Sorry to barge in on you like that but, Oh my!” She spotted the kitchen and stopped in her tracks.  
“Did you do this John?” She turned to me and Sherlock gave out a snort.  
“John’s been at work all day. I cleaned it.” She turned and stared at him.  
“Now really, is it that hard to believe that I can clean?” he started typing on the laptop.  
“Er, John, I came up here to tell you that there is a man downstairs asking for you. He didn’t want to come up, but it looks like he might be one of” She looked over at Sherlock momentarily. “Mycrofts.” I sighed and followed her downstairs.  
“We’re out of milk, get some while you’re out.” Sherlock hollered as the door closed. There was a black car waiting outside of the building for me. A man was standing outside of it who looked like a linebacker. He was dressed in a suit and had on sunglasses. He got into the car after me. I sat in silence for a few minutes, but as the scenery of London dropped behind us I spoke up.  
“Where are we going? I suppose you’re not going to tell me.” Mycroft had often done this before, sending someone to pick me up and take me to an undisclosed location to try to bribe me. He was always asking about his brother, but never wanted to talk to him himself. I sat in silence for a while more, knowing this man wouldn’t talk to me. It seemed to take longer than usual and I started to get nervous.  
“What’s your name? I don’t think I caught it before.” I looked over at the man cautiously and saw a gun at his waist. The man didn’t answer and continued to stare a hole into the front seat. Mycroft wouldn’t send a man with a gun. He normally sends Anthea, but sometimes others come. None of them ever had guns after the first meeting. None of them ever drove for this long either.   
“Who sent you?” I asked suspiciously. The man smiled slightly. I decided to take a risk. What I did next was pure stupidity. My elbow connected with the man’s nose and I grabbed for his gun. He punched me in the face as I grabbed for it, but I still got it and held it up to his head. I didn’t realize I had pulled the trigger until his blood was all over me. For a second I had a flash back of the war but then his body slumped towards me and I pushed it back up against the window. The driver slammed on the brakes and I bolted out of the car. I started to run through a field still clutching the gun. There was the sound of gunfire behind me and I heard bullets wiz past me. One grazed my cheek and I turned around and shot in the general direction of the man. I must have hit him because the firing stopped. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins and I continued running. I ran until I reached another road. I felt for my cell phone and called Sherlock. It rang and went to voice mail. I called again and again. Finally he picked up.  
“Would you mind telling me why I was just kidnaped?!” I screamed into the phone.  
“Were you? Where are you?” He sounded concerned for once. The sun was going down and there was hardly any light left to see anything. There were no signs anywhere near me but I was on a dirt road with wheat surrounding me.  
“Uh, I can’t see any signs, but I’m in the middle of nowhere next to a wheat field. We have been traveling north for about forty five minutes and I ran a good ten west… wait, I can see something on a hill to my left. It’s a church. Old, and not functioning by looks of it. There’s a small graveyard next to it and big oak trees line the drive.” I paused, letting Sherlock take in the information.  
“They took the long way. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” He hung up the phone. I wiped some of the blood off my face and then I sat down on the ground and waited for him to come.  
~

By the time Sherlock got me the sun had set. He was the only person that came down the road the entire time that I was waiting for him. He brought me a clean shirt when he came, which was good because the cab driver wouldn’t let me in with blood all over my clothes and I wasn’t about to sit half naked in a taxi next to Sherlock either.   
I turned around and slipped off my soiled shirt and slid the clean one over my head. The cold air raised bumps along my skin and my hair rose on my arms. I felt Sherlock’s eyes on my body the entire time. A shiver went down my back but when I turned around he was staring off in the distance.   
We sat in silence on the drive home, and soon I figured out why. Sherlock had fallen asleep and when the cab turned his head fell onto my shoulder. I wanted to push him back in the opposite direction, but it felt right somehow. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and leaned my head back on the seat. The long curls of his hair tickled my neck and raised goose bumps. He shifted sideways so he was more comfortable. His face was now snuggled into my arm and he had put his hand on my thigh. Each time the car would go over a bump his hand would slide farther in on my thigh. I tried ignoring it and gazed out the window.   
Sherlock started to mumble in his sleep. He pressed his head harder into my side and moved his hand so his arm stretched across my lap.  
“John…” My name passed his lips slowly and at first I didn’t think I heard it, but then he said it again.  
“John…” His hand tightened into a light fist that grabbed my pants. I looked down at him. His face was relaxed without any signs of stress. He looked like a child. His mouth was open slightly as he breathed through it. He seemed content, like he could stay like this forever. The fist uncurled and shifted up towards my hip. His long fingers curled around the curve of my body in a possessive way.  
“John…” My name had become a sigh.  
~  
“Next time you steal someone’s prized possession, make sure they kidnap you and not me!” I shouted at Sherlock once we got back in our flat.  
“There’s no need to yell at Sherlock, it wasn’t his fault. Drink this; it will steady your nerves.” Mrs. Hudson handed me a cup of herbal tea with a dash of something smelling suspiciously of alcohol.  
“You are my flat mate and you knew the risks. I’ll make it up to you though.” Sherlock said as he paced the room. It was like he had gotten eight hours of sleep instead of just a half hour.  
“And how exactly would you do that.” I grumbled out.  
“I have a theory. But I’m not going to tell you yet.” I rolled my eyes.  
“Well, now that I know you both are safe and sound, I think I will go to bed.” Mrs. Hudson said and walked out. I think I heard her say something about telling the police it started as a domestic dispute. I went to the bathroom to take a shower and change and when I came out Sherlock was pacing the living room.  
“I would like to sleep if you don’t mind.” I said and curled up on the couch. Sherlock muttered something but continued to pace. I sighed and tried to tune it out.  
When I woke up, the first thing I saw was Sherlock’s face. He was sitting on the floor in front of me.  
“What are you doing?!” I scrambled up into a sitting position.  
“Observing you, obviously.”  
“Obviously. Why?” I was getting irritated with him already and the day had just started.  
“I was watching your sleeping patterns.” He stated.  
“Wait, what? What do you mean?”  
“I watched you sleep. I needed to know the regularity of your REM cycles.”  
“You watched me sleep?!” He nodded his head.  
“The entire night?!” what if I said something? What if I moaned something?! He sighed.  
“Yes, I need accurate data.” His face was slightly annoyed.  
“Sherlock. What do you think you’re doing?! That is just way beyond creepy. Aren’t you tired?!”  
“Sleeping is boring. I will be fine for another three hours, then my mental capabilities will start to decline. You might need this.” He handed me a bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water.  
“That cut on your face looked pretty nasty. You didn’t tell me you were shot at.” I took the pills and replied,  
“Don’t try to change the subject, but yes, I was shot at. Again. Because of you. Again.” He smiled and took the bottle and glass and set them on the floor next to him.  
“You liked it though.” I just sat there and didn’t answer. He was right of course.  
“Why did you need to watch me sleep? How long have you been doing that?” Sherlock shifted nervously.  
“Only last night. I am gathering data, as I told you.” I sighed and rubbed my forehead.  
“Data for what? You didn’t drug me did you?” I narrowed my eyes at him.  
“I would only drug you if I had your permission or your life depended on it.” I rolled my eyes.  
“I’m sure.” I got up and stretched out, trying to get a kink out of my back. I started to rub my shoulder when it persisted.  
“Here, let me help you.” Sherlock unfolded his legs and got up. He placed his hands on my shoulder blades and started to rub them. I stiffened at first, but then relaxed. His hands moved swiftly finding the kink and relaxing it away. I sighed out of pleasure as the knot seemed to just melt under his deft hands. I closed my eyes and he started to massage up my spine. He brought his hands up to the tops of my shoulders and rubbed gently were my scar was. All too soon he pulled away.  
“I think that will do.” He whispered close to my ear and disappeared into his room. My knees almost buckled and I fell back onto the couch.  
“Shit.” I whispered as I tried to regain my ability to stand.  
~  
Sherlock started coming towards my dream self. He flung off his shirt and I followed his example. He unbuttoned his pants and shoved everything down his legs, kicking them off as he advanced. I swallowed hard as I removed mine. We were both already completely aroused. Sherlock crushed his lips up against mine in a violent kiss. He started to lick at my bottom lip and I opened my mouth to let him in. He thrust his tongue into my mouth, going along the lines of my teeth and tongue. I moaned into the open cavity of his mouth as he thrust his hips against mine. He continued this action, moving his tongue in and out with the rhythm of his hips for a few more antagonizing minutes. We crashed through the house until we ended up in his room. He shoved me down onto his bed and pounced back onto me. He was touching every part of me with his body and started to rock his hips back and forth, rubbing our dicks together. I moaned out in pleasure as they slid along each other.  
“Fuck that feels good.” He growled out. I started running my hands up and down his back and clutched at his ass. He grabbed my hair and increased his tempo.  
“Sherlock!” I moaned out.   
“What?” Sherlock was standing above me when I opened my eyes.  
“Huh?” I lay on the couch, with a ragging boner again, and stared at Sherlock.  
“You said my name. I thought you might need something, but I suppose you just said it in your sleep. What were you dreaming about?” He knew. He had to know. The way I was moaning in my dream, that had to of come across if I said his name.   
“I don’t remember.” I lied.  
“You have to remember something! Come on, I’m curious. What was I doing in your dream?” I tried to sit up but he pushed me back down.  
“Let me up Sherlock.” I said and tried to get up again.  
“Not until you tell me what you were dreaming about.” He pushed me back down again and kept his hand on my chest.  
“I told you, I don’t remember!” the heat from his hand seeped through my shirt and into my chest.  
“You’re lying.” I tried to keep my breathing steady.  
“O.K., fine, I was dreaming about a case we had.”  
“Still lying. Tell the truth.” I swallowed hard and tried to think of a way to get out of this situation.  
“I was dreaming you… what does it matter what I was dreaming?! You watched me sleep before, that’s enough, you don’t need to know!” he started to tap his fingers on my chest.  
“I want to know, and I can keep you here until you tell me.” I looked at him with disdain.  
“You’re going to be here a while then, I won’t tell you.” I noticed that he had the first button of his shirt undone again.  
“Yes you will.” I closed my eyes and wished it away. When I opened them he was still there and still had his hand on my chest. I took a deep breath and watched his hand rise and fall. I stayed silent. His finger tapping turned into drawing slow circles along my chest.  
“Should I guess what you were dreaming about? I bet I could figure it out.” I panicked and tried to get up again. He shoved me down and moved closer to me, kneeling on the floor and put his whole forearm on my chest and grabbed my shoulder.  
“It wouldn’t be a case, I already determined that you lied about that. You usually dream of war, so it wouldn’t be anything mundane like daily life. I only heard you say my name and no one else, so we were most likely the only ones in your dream.” His hot breath caressed my face as he talked. I took in ragged breaths of air.  
“If we were the only ones there and it wasn’t mundane, then it had to be…” he leaned in close to my ear.  
“Sex.” He whispered. I tried to shove him off of me, but he pinned me to the couch by jumping on top of me. He put a hand on each side of my waist trapping me on the couch. His face was only an inch away from mine and he was now straddling my middle.  
“It was sex wasn’t it?” He whispered. My mouth dried and I nodded my head.  
“You’ve been dreaming about me for a long time now haven’t you?” I nodded my head again.  
“It started when you began sleeping down here didn’t it? This is my experiment John. I needed to be able to see you sleep. I planted the idea into your head a few days before I sawed up your bed. I kept it fresh with a few light touches here and there, a few words that could be taken several ways, but it took root fast in your brain. The rest was just fun.” He said this all quietly.  
“Would you like to know what I have concluded?” I stared up into his eyes and braced myself.   
“I want to do the same to you.” He let the words fall out of his mouth and stared back at me.  
“You… what?” I croaked out. He smiled at me and leaned back onto my hips. His back was touching my erection and I tried to slink down, but he just put more of his weight on me, pressing me into the couch cushions.  
“I can feel you are aroused John. You want to fuck me. I heard it myself. You said more than just my name.” I couldn’t think. I couldn’t move. I just laid there letting his words bounce around in my head. He leaned back over me and whispered again  
“You, want, to, fuck, me.” He placed his hands on my shoulders and started to travel up my neck.  
“I want you John.” A shiver went down my back and I closed my eyes. His fingers danced up to my lips and traced the outline of them. I had lost all control of my breathing and was basically gasping for air.   
“Kiss me.” He sighed out the words barely loud enough to be audible.  
“Kiss me.” He said louder.  
“Kiss me.” I leaned up and touched our lips together. Sherlock moaned slightly and pressed them harder together. He ended the kiss gasping for breath. His eyes were halfway closed as he spoke.  
“That wasn’t bad. What do you think?” I leaned up again and pulled his head down for another kiss.  
“Stop talking.” I whispered into his mouth. I broke away and started trailing kisses down his neck. He started to unbutton his shirt and I licked the hollow of his clavicle. When each button would come undone I would trail my mouth over the newly exposed skin. He pulled his shirt off and flung it across the room then started to tear at my shirt so I helped him by wiggling out of it. He situated himself between my legs and trailed his fingers down my stomach sending ripples through my abdomen. He was just about to slide his hand into my sleep pants when we heard a knock at the door.  
“Mrs. Hudson!” I looked up wildly at Sherlock.  
“Shh! I locked the door before you woke up. If we don’t make any noise she will go away.” He leaned in close to whisper. We waited for her to leave but she knocked again.  
“Boys, are you in there? I didn’t think you left.” She knocked again. “If you’re just trying to avoid me, that’s pretty cruel.” She slid a note under the door and finally left.  
“That was close.” Sherlock grinned down at me. I couldn’t help but to return his foolish smile.  
“Could we maybe continue this in your bed?” I asked Sherlock. His grin widened and he got off me. We went into his bedroom and he started trailing kisses along my neck. I pushed down my pants making myself completely naked and started working on undressing Sherlock the rest of the way. I couldn’t resist giving his ass a squeeze while it was still in the pants though. I laughed at how muscular it was. He shook his pants off his legs and they landed half way across the room. We paused for a moment, taking in each other’s body. Sherlock was so tall and lean it put me to shame. He pushed me onto his bed and crawled on top of me again. It felt so much different now that it was skin on skin. Wherever he touched me a tremor of anticipation seemed to form. He lightly brushed his hands up my sides sending all of my blood south. When he reached my shoulders he backtracked and brought his hands down my chest. His face seemed to loom above me as his hand slowly went farther down my body. When he reached my hips he paused for a moment, a little unsure of what to do next, but then kept going. He slowed down once he reached my cock and lightly touched the shaft. I drew in a quick hiss of a breath as pleasure spread through it.  
“Oh god Sherlock.” I breathed out heavily. He lifted his fingers lightly to the tip, trailing the edge of them along the shaft and then back down to the base. He repeated this several times. Each time his grasp would get firmer and the pace would pick up a little. I moaned in pleasure and rolled Sherlock on his back. He looked surprised but let me do it. I slowly put my mouth on the tip of his cock and licked the small slit. He groaned deep in his chest when I went farther down it. I sucked on his cock until I could taste the salty pre cum on my tongue.  
“John. I want you.” I nodded my head. I placed a finger at the entrance of his ass and slowly worked it in. his muscles didn’t want to relax and it took quite a lot of coaxing for me to be able to move it in and out with no trouble. After that I put in a second finger. He hissed out between his teeth when the muscle had to stretch to accommodate it. I moved them slowly back and forth until the muscle relaxed again. Finally I was able to put a third finger in with no problem. I pulled my fingers out and put my cocks head at the entrance to his ass.  
“Are you sure you want this?” I asked. He nodded his head and grabbed my hand. I shoved my cocks head through the ring of muscle and stopped to let it adjust. Sherlock gripped my hand tightly. After he relaxed I continued pushing in. Once I was all the way in I stopped. Sherlock was gripping my hand so hard my fingers were going numb. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and his breathing was coming in on slow tattered breaths.   
“Do you want me to continue?” he nodded his head. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I knew it was pleasurable. He started to move his hips signaling to me to move. I slowly pulled out and just when I was almost all the way out I pushed back in. I went slowly at first, but then Sherlock started moving his hips again, forcing me to move faster. I grabbed his dick and started to pump it in the same rhythm that I was moving into him. He moaned with pleasure and started to buck wildly. Our bodies moved with each other in sync even though we were lost in our passion. Sherlock’s muscles started to squeeze hard around my cock and I gritted my teeth, fighting for time. I was so close to finding my release.  
“John, I’m going to- AH!” Sherlock’s semen flew all over my hand and his stomach as his cock pulsed out the seed. I continued to move inside of him, almost reaching my own climax. His ass muscles started to clench tighter around my erection as the last of his semen seeped from his cock. With one last thrust I reached my release and spilled inside of his ass. I fell onto the bed next to him panting.  
“That was amazing John.” Sherlock whispered into my ear. I smiled and moved closer to him.  
~  
I picked up the note that Mrs. Hudson left and read it.  
‘There’s a man downstairs with a questionable looking package. I am assuming it is for you. He said he would wait until you came. Mrs. Hudson” I groaned.  
“Sherlock, did you get more body parts?” I shouted. Sherlock came out of his room. He had his shirt half on and I stared. He chuckled as he buttoned it up.  
“I believe yes.” He disappeared downstairs for about five minutes and came back up with a small bag full of brown liquid and chunks of something. He put it in the freezer.  
“Oh, remember I told you I would make it up to you that I sawed up your bed? Go up to your room.” He motioned upstairs and propelled me to the door.  
“There isn’t going to be a whole dead human in there is there?” I said sarcastically. He ruffled my hair and laughed. I opened my door and where my bed used to be, a new one was. It wasn’t just any though, it was the waterbed.   
“How did you afford this?” I asked as I walked over to it.  
“It doesn’t matter. I knew you wanted it, so I got it for you.” He had already put sheets on it and I sat down. A ripple went through the bed when I did. I laid down and let the water rock me. Sherlock sat down on the other side.  
“Do you like it?” he asked. I nodded my head and sat back up.  
“It’s perfect, but I don’t think I will be using it that much.” Sherlock smiled at me.  
“We could use it right now.” Sherlock said to me huskily. And we did. Sex on a waterbed is the most interesting thing I have ever experienced.  
~  
Mrs. Hudson walked up to 221B. The man was gone from outside so she knew that Sherlock and John were, in fact, home. She paused on the steps when she heard something coming from John’s room.  
“So that’s where you were.” She said under her breath. She was just about to knock on the door when she heard it again. Her hand trembled in midair when she realized what was going on. It was a low moan and the slosh of the waterbed. She knew Sherlock had bought it for John but didn’t think they would be doing that already.  
“Oh! Sherlock you rascal.” She smiled lightly as she turned around and headed back down the stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> there was supposed to be more plot in here, but alas, it was not to be ^^; r&r please, thank you for reading and if you read it to the end, thank you for bearing with me


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